


Anomalies

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a request that got out of hand, basically a romcom, minor smut, parents meeting when they take their kids to school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing Kuroko hadn't expected when he ordered Furihata and Akashi to take their children on playdates, it was this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anomalies

When his daughter came home from preschool and cried for the third day running, Kōki decided that something drastic had to be done. _Anyone_ would have thought that. The problem with being a single father was that he had an irrational urge to destroy anything that thought of hurting his child or taking her away. And the ironic thing was that before her, he’d actually been a pacifist.

Kuroko usually picked her up from the shop on the way as he lived close and worked at the nursery, and dropped her back off after about two hours before Kōki closed shop, but he’d had to shut up earlier when Kiyoko was almost in hysterics. Not to mention having to buy ice cream every day to comfort her was both unhealthy and expensive.

He made up his mind the third evening, when he was in the living room above the shop with Kiyoko sniffling in his arms and watching her favourite programme, thinking about the money he was missing out on from keeping the shop closed which he _really_ couldn’t afford to lose. “Who’s teasing you, Kiyoko?” he asked one more time, and she only shook her head. Kōki’s stomach once again dropped as he wondered _just_ how serious another five year old’s teasing could be. Most parents might have said to ignore it, comforting their child with petty words about jealousy and how _obviously_ they must have a crush on their darling angel, but Kōki saw it as injustice. Five year olds were too young to have crushes anyway. “I’ll come with you tomorrow and see what I can do, okay?”

So when he woke up at six, he only went downstairs to the shop to spray and water the flowers, simultaneously calling Kuroko to tell him that he would take her to school, and write a few cards out for the deliveries the next day. He woke Kiyoko at seven to sort out her breakfast, hair and bag. She was cheery when they left, and bounded before Kōki with a daisy in her hand, leaving Kōki to carry her bag.

He approached her once they got through the gate, holding her arm and kneeling next to her. “Who is it who’s teasing you?”

“Eri-kun,” she said. Her dark eyes narrowed as she scanned over the children, before pointing over Kōki’s shoulder.

The boy had bright red hair and was walking hand-in-hand with a tall man in a suit and sunglasses. Kōki blanched; he looked _ripped_. Kiyoko held onto the hem of his shirt and hid behind his leg.

Right. Even if he was scared, he had to do this for his daughter. She would only stand up for herself if she saw him stand up for her.

“E-excuse me?” He pulled Kiyoko’s hand from his shirt and scurried forwards. Eri’s hand was let go of and he ran inside. “Are you Eri-kun’s father?”

“No,” the man said, as if it should be perfectly obvious. Kōki raised an eyebrow at his tone. “I am the Akashi family’s personal driver.”

The kid had a personal driver. Kōki was beginning to see the root of the issue. “Well, Eri-kun has been bullying my daughter and I would like to talk to his parents.”

“Akashi-sama will be picking up the young master this afternoon.”

 _Young master?_ Kōki thought. The kid must be spoilt. There was something to be said for growing up in relative poverty. “Okay.” He stepped back. “I’ll talk to him then.”

“I will inform him.” The driver bowed and Kōki was vaguely shocked as he left. Kiyoko tugged on his shirt.

“I think he’s a government spy.”

Kōki looked at her and she regarded the retreating man with suspicion. “Y-yeah. That seems as good an explanation as any.” The bell rang and Kuroko came out to call the children in, waving to Kōki when he saw him. “Have a good day,” he said to Kiyoko after waving back, kissing her cheek before she ran off to join some friends.

And five hours later he was back in the same place, scanning for red hair and hoping that his courage would hold up long enough to get some results. Kiyoko ran to him as soon as she came out. “Where’s Eri-kun, then?”

She frowned. “Oh. I’d forgotten about that. He was okay today; maybe we can just leave it.”

“No! What he did isn’t right and he has to suffer the consequences. Him and his father.”

Kiyoko blinked and looked at him in concern but still lead him to where the red-headed child was being taken away by an equally red-headed man. This one was smaller and not _quite_ so ripped. Well, a little bit ripped. From his shirt sleeves being rolled up, Kōki could see that he had obvious, defined muscles. Which wasn’t fair, because the most Kōki could get was slight definition.

“Akashi-san!” he called out. He looked over his shoulder and sighed, an obvious look of irritation on his face.

Attractive face. So he was muscular, attractive and rich. The world was unfair.

“I suppose you’re the one who wanted to talk to me about Eri?” He gave Kōki a once-over that had Kōki squirming uncomfortably. He knew he didn’t look great; his shirt was an unflattering colour and he was pretty sure he had soil still on his cheek and in his hair from when he’d shaken the bag a bit too exuberantly and it had gone everywhere.

“Yes. Just to see what you’re going to do about it.”

“I apologise. I don’t have the time for that. Talk to Kuroko if you need something done.” He turned back and started to walk away again, towards a particularly shiny black Mercedes. Kōki had always hated the rich, and with good reason.

“We’re going to talk about it _now_.” Akashi stopped in his tracks and watched him coldly. Kōki shivered.

“I have an important meeting to get to and I have to get Eri home.” He had almost reached the car and started to open the door, but Kōki shot after him and slammed it shut, meeting Akashi’s eyes. He was determined, he was strong, he _would not_ take no for an answer and he _would_ bring justice for his daughter.

Akashi’s eyes were on fire. Kōki’s resolve faltered a bit.

It wasn’t just the obvious anger, but also that he wasn’t just any kind of attractive; he was _pretty_ , and Kōki could never defy someone who was pretty, no matter the gender.

“If your son has been bullying other children then you have to take the responsibility.” At least, that was what he _thought_ he’d said. He couldn’t quite hear over the pounding of his pulse. Akashi didn’t seem too confused, at least.

“He wasn’t bullying. He was merely making an observation.”

He tried to open the door again and Kōki stepped in his way, leaning on it. Kiyoko watched him with wide eyes and Eri was beside her, nervously fiddling with his jacket. “What observation?”

Akashi sighed. “That her reading level is well below what it should be.”

Kōki froze for a second, heard Kiyoko say “ _Oh no_ ,” in the background and before he knew it he’d slapped Akashi across the face.

He thought. His vision went red, and then his hand was stinging, there was a red mark on Akashi’s cheek and adrenaline was coursing through his body as if he was about to get into a real fight. Eri gasped behind him and took Kiyoko’s wrist, said something that Kōki didn’t quite understand—something about Kuroko—and they ran off in the direction of the gate.

“ _What_ … do you think you’re doing?”

Kōki thought that he might throw up in fear from the furious look in his eyes—red eyes could look positively demonic when angry—and his body was covered in a cold sweat. “Defending my daughter.”

“It was an _observation_. There was no need to defend anything.” He didn’t shout. His voice was eerily calm and controlled. Kōki wondered whether he could produce a death ray from his eyes. He seemed capable of focussing all of his anger on a fixed point, whilst Kōki could only boil and bubble over.

He saw Kuroko running to approach them, Eri and Kiyoko following. “Oh shit,” he muttered. Akashi continued glaring at him, until Kuroko forcibly pushed him back and stood between them.

“I heard something rather alarming,” he said. Kōki paled. “That you two were fighting practically on my doorstep, in front of some of the children.” Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arms. “I know this can’t be true, because you are perfectly aware that I do _not_ allow such conduct from children and parents alike, _especially_ in front of their own children.”

“Eri-kun has been bullying Kiyoko.”

“There was an issue, which was resolved in a mature manner today. I had them apologise to each other and they promised to do nothing of the sort again—”

“Why would Kiyoko have to apologise for what Eri-kun said?”

“There were also some issues regarding Kiyoko-chan pulling Eri-kun’s hair—”

“Kiyoko!” She jolted and looked down nervously.

“It’s been resolved; there’s no need to be angry with her, Furihata-kun—”

“Well isn’t that odd,” Akashi said, giving what could only be described as a manic smile and Kōki blankly thought that he looked like an avenging _angel_ , and _why_ did he have to be Eri’s father? “I would have thought that physical abuse is more serious than making a valid observation.”

“Akashi-kun!” Even Akashi jumped and looked sheepish. “Regardless, they both scored exactly the same on the last reading test—”

The smirk slid off Akashi’s face and Kōki coughed to hide a laugh, which he should have held back completely.

“Right,” Kuroko said coldly, in the same tone he used when he had arranged an intervention to stop Kōki from ever drinking again (myriads of bad things happened when he did which he never wanted to get into). “I didn’t want to force them into this, because as long as they’re civil I don’t mind if they’re friends or not, but with you two like this you leave me no choice. Arrange play dates once a week, which you shall _both_ attend.” Kōki heard a nail being hammered into his coffin. “I don’t care how busy you are, you _will_ set aside at least an hour a week.”

“Kuroko, I hardly have five _minutes_ —”

“You will be cordial and civil,” he continued, ignoring Akashi’s rebuttal. “And you _will_ show your children that there are better ways of breaching differences than _brawling_ in the streets. Now, shake hands.”

“What?” Kōki said, weakly. He could see now why Kuroko had children scrambling to obey him; in a good mood he was wonderful, but any sort of bad mood and he was terrifying.

“I don’t see any point in—”

“Too afraid to touch a commoner?” Kōki said. There was _no_ way he was going to agree with Akashi about anything, and if _he_ didn’t want to shake hands they would bloody well shake hands.

Kuroko heaved a loud sigh as Akashi glared, and slowly lifted his hand. His smile, though seemingly pleasant, was painfully forced. Kōki pursed his lips and took his hand, squeezing it hopefully hard enough to hurt and shook it once. Kuroko immediately turned on his heel, patted both children on the head with a whispered, “I prefer you two,” and stalking back to the building with one hand kneading the nape of his neck.

“So what, do we exchange numbers or something?” Kōki said.

Akashi beckoned to Eri, who took hold of his hand, before fishing a business card out of his pocket. “Call the mobile number on that sometime after six.” Kōki took it and jumped when he leant in to open the car door with more force than necessary and it hit him, before getting out of the way, looking over his shoulder for a second at him strapping Eri in.

He did not stare for any longer than absolutely necessary, and did not think about how being bent over was a remarkably attractive position for him.

“Daddy,” Kiyoko asked a little way down the road. She’d been skipping in front of him, and stopped to turn back to him. “I think I respect Kuroko-sensei more than I do you.”

Kōki eyed her, thinking that at least she didn’t respect _Akashi_ more than she did him. “We’ll see about that,” he said. His lips curled at the thought of Akashi’s son being anywhere near her, but he would show them all.

-

He called at seven. He _had_ expected to call at six, but being entirely too nervous for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he’d decided to have a small glass of wine from the bottle he’d managed to hide from Kuroko the last time he’d come round. Very small. Just to lift his spirits and give him the courage to talk. The first time, the line was busy, and the second time he got through.

“ _Akashi speaking_.”

His voice alone was enough for Kōki to want to punch something. He crumpled the business card in his hand—he was a CEO of Teikō, the largest and most successful conglomerate in Japan, of all things. Life was unfair and Kōki hated it, hated Akashi, hated that bloody company, and some of it must have seeped into his voice.

“It’s Furihata,” he said, after wondering whether he should prank call him instead. Tell him the company building was up in flames or something. But Kuroko would find out. He _always_ found out. “When are we going to have this bloody playdate then?”

Akashi sighed. “ _When are you free?_ ”

“I dunno,” he muttered. “Maybe Sunday morning? About 10?”

“ _Your phone manner leaves a lot to be desired_.”

“Shut up,” he said, forcing a more pleasant tone of voice. He was pretty sure Akashi muffled a laugh and wondered what he was so bloody pleased about.

It was easier to remain focussed and angry when the man wasn’t standing in front of him. “So Sunday at 10?” he asked again. He heard papers rustling.

“ _Ah, no. I have a meeting_.”

“That’s pretty much the only time I can do, Akashi-san. You own the company; why don’t you push it back a couple of hours?”

“ _Because I have people flying in from the UK and the US specifically for the meeting. Why can’t you close up for a couple of hours?_ ”

“Because, unlike you, I’m living on pretty much minimum wage. Any time I’m not open I lose money that I can’t _afford_ to lose. Sunday mornings are my quietest time so I’ll lose the least then.” He hated rich people from the bottom of his heart.

The other side was quiet. Kōki refused to break the silence, instead pouring himself another small glass of wine. Small. Very small. Basically non-existent. He frowned at the pathetic amount and poured out more. “ _Okay. I’ll rearrange it_.”

“Thank you.”

“ _Shall I send my driver to pick you up?_ ”

Kōki scoffed. “Your _driver_? I don’t think so.”

“ _Why not? He’s very good at his job_.”

Kōki rolled his eyes and reminded himself to send Kuroko a bunch of flowers with a bomb hidden somewhere inside. “I don’t need you to send your driver, okay? Why don’t we just take them to the park?”

“ _The one nearest to the school?_ ”

“Sure,” Kōki said glumly. It was a nice park. Awful company.

“ _I’ll see you then_.”

Kōki almost growled. What a hypocrite; being so polite and pleasant as if Kōki had imagined how unreasonable he was. “Whatever,” he said, hanging up. He felt a little guilty afterwards, but nothing that the glass of wine wouldn’t cure. Feeling guilty about Akashi was a pointless affliction, after all.

-

He got Kiyoko ready early, though she grumbled and said; “If the playdate is for you and Akashi-san why do _I_ have to go?”

“We’re going to the park near your school. You like that park, right?”

“If I’m going to the park why did you put me in a dress?”

Kōki picked up his keys and pushed her to encourage her down the stairs. “Because you’re cute.”

“And why is my hair like this?” She patted the plaits piled on top of her head and Kōki looked at them in satisfaction. He was pleased with his handiwork, it had to be said.

“Because we want Akashi-san to be jealous.” He took one of the daisies from a vase, checked a few to be sure that they would be sufficiently hydrated, and handed it to her.

She looked at him seriously. “I think you need help, daddy.”

-

Akashi was already there when they arrived, reading a book in the shade as Eri ran in circles around him. “You’re three minutes late,” he said without looking up from his book as Kōki sat a couple of metres from him. Eri and Kiyoko eyed each other for a moment before Eri pointed to the swing set. Kiyoko shrugged and followed him.

Kōki wished he’d brought a book. After all, they didn’t _have_ to talk to each other—Kuroko would never know—but just sitting here for an hour was boring. Even twenty minutes was absolutely unbearable. Kiyoko and Eri had already moved on to playing with other children and Kōki wondered if it would be entirely unreasonable to go play on the pirate ship that was in the middle of the play area.

He started tearing at the grass in his agitation, and Akashi watched him from the corner of his eye.

“So I’m guessing we’re both single parents,” he said. Kōki looked up from the grass as he placed the book on the floor and took off his reading glasses.

Kōki tensed. Of all the things they could have talked about… but he nodded jerkily, hoping that would be enough. He’d talked about it before, of course, to… his parents a bit. Kuroko once, a few days after it had happened when he wasn’t making much sense.

“So… where is Kiyoko-chan’s mother?”

His eyes burned, and he focussed on the grass again. “She’s dead,” he said. The blades were blurring in front of him. Refusing to say any more, he turned the attention back on Akashi. “What about you?”

“She left,” he said. Kōki peeked and saw him watching Eri with a gentle smile as he pulled Kiyoko to the swing and apparently convinced her to push him. “We weren’t married, and she didn’t love Eri. Left when he was six weeks old.”

Kōki blinked and gazed at him. It was so different from his story it was like the two women were from entirely different species. He wondered where she was now, whether Eri asked about her as often as Kiyoko asked about hers. “Oh.”

“It didn’t bother me too much, to be honest.”

Kōki huffed. “So you’re just the type to spill out your life story to any random stranger? What, am I going to hear about your many holiday homes next? The golden crown you’re having commissioned for your birthday?”

“ _Holiday_ homes? As if I have time for _that_.”

“Sucks to be the little rich boy, right?”

Akashi was breathing heavily as he gave Kōki a look of seething hatred. It shocked him, if he was to be honest. “You have no idea, Furihata. Don’t presume to think that you know me at all.”

“Why are we even _here_?”

“ _I’m_ here because Kuroko is my friend and I will sincerely try to do anything he asks of me.”

“Well, we’ve sincerely tried. Can we go now?”

“Sure. Do you want to tell them or should I?”

He looked over to where Kiyoko and Eri were playing. They had switched round, and now Eri was pushing the swing as high as he could. Some of Kiyoko’s plaits had come loose and the strands hung in waves around her face. She had the same smile as her mother, he noted for the hundredth time. His heart ached.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “What time did you push your meeting to?”

“Three,” he answered. “Decided to spend more time with Eri.”

Kōki recognised the look on his face and felt part of the anger blow away. They had one thing in common, at least; their children were the most important part of them. “Fine. Give me the book.” He held out his hand expectantly, and Akashi’s eyes creased in the insinuation of a smile as he passed it over.

He _was_ being perfectly civil and cordial, as Kuroko had insisted, and Kōki felt a bit foolish and childish at his own comportment in contrast. Not quite enough to apologise yet, but enough that he was embarrassed and had to keep his head down pretending to read. At eleven, he called Kiyoko and brushed off the dust she’d managed to accumulate on her dress. “I _told_ you I shouldn’t wear this,” she said into Kōki’s ear.

“Fine, I know. You look cute anyway.” After, he finally turned back to Akashi and handed the book back to him. “It was dull and banal,” he said, though he’d only managed to read one page and actually found it quite intriguing.

Akashi cocked an eyebrow. “Really? What would you recommend then?”

Kōki stood up and took Kiyoko’s hand. “Maybe I’ll bring some books next week.”

His smirk should really have been illegal. It was only fair; _no one_ should be able to have that kind of expression on their face. “Same time same place?”

“Sure.”

He still held a bit of hope, and when he asked Kiyoko what she thought about doing the same thing the next week she nodded enthusiastically. “I’m going to be the pirate and Eri-kun will be the princess next week. He promised. We have to make it.” The hope was lost, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to blame Kiyoko in any way. She was being more mature about this entire situation than _he_ was, after all.

-

The next week brought with it bright sunshine and a sense of impending doom. Kōki let Kiyoko choose her clothes, and once the flowers had been checked and a few of the wilted ones thrown out, took Kiyoko’s hand to lead her to the park. Akashi was sitting on a bench with Eri on his lap, who jumped off once he’d caught sight of Kiyoko, happily referring to her as ‘Kiyo-chan’ (Kōki’s eyes narrowed at that). He still sat as far away as he could on the bench. It was surprisingly nerve-wracking to see him again. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up again (did he _ever_ wear anything casual?) and Kōki eyed the muscles for a little while. A moment. Maybe a couple of minutes. But it wasn’t ogling.

“So are you going to educate me?” Kōki’s eyes shot up to his. No; surely he hadn’t guessed what Kōki was thinking? Could he read minds, as well as being a legitimate genius, having a photographic memory and being the youngest CEO to own a multinational conglomerate? He was even five years younger than Kōki, which was particularly irksome. Nothing like being so outclassed by someone who had entered high school when he was halfway through university.

He might have done a bit of research over the past week. Research which only made his blood chill, that he’d slapped someone so recognised and respected by people double his age.

“On what?” he asked carefully.

“Books? You were supposed to educate me because mine was…” He put his head to one side. “Dull and banal, right?”

Kōki honestly couldn’t remember what he’d said the week before. “I kinda lied. I just couldn’t focus on it enough to read more than one page. It was quite intriguing, really.”

Akashi bent to rifle in his bag and retrieved it. “I’ve read it a lot. You can borrow it.”

“Th-thank you, Akashi-san,” Kōki said. He reached for it cautiously; maybe this was some kind of trick?

But nothing happened. He was handed the book, when he flicked through it nothing jumped out into his face, and Akashi went back to watching the children play with a softened look in his eye. Kōki didn’t really know what to think anymore. Akashi, away from any hint of how powerful he was, was remarkably like anyone else. It was little things as well; there was a thread coming loose on his top, small scuffs on his shoes and even a bruise on his arm.

He shook his head and opened the book, trying to get into it, and was interrupted when Kiyoko walked up to them with her hands behind her back. Kōki watched her approach, blindsided when she stopped in front of Akashi. “Akashi-san,” she said, twisting on the spot and smiling at him nervously. “I made you a flower crown,” she said. She held out some daisy chains weaved together and went on her tiptoes to place it on Akashi’s head.

Kōki wanted to knock his entire head off with the daisies.

“Th-thank you,” Akashi said. He seemed just as startled as Kōki, and touched the crown atop his head for a second. “Does it suit me?” he asked with a smile so blindingly sweet Kōki couldn’t even look at it. Kiyoko beamed at him and nodded, turning away to join Eri again.

“Wait, don’t I get one?”

Kiyoko looked at Kōki blankly over her shoulder. “No,” she responded, quickly darting off. Kōki’s heart sank.

“Do you want this one?” Akashi asked. He went to remove it.

“No! And don’t you dare take it off until we leave.”

He knew he should never have trusted her with someone so attractive. Kiyoko could see that he would look like a fairy or a Tolkein-esque elf with a flower crown, of _course_ she would rather give one to him. Kōki, meanwhile, would just look like a man with flowers on his head.

“Maybe we’ll leave now,” he said. He tried to get up, and somehow tripped over his legs or the hem of his jeans, landing headfirst on the hard dirt footpath before them. He lay dazed for a moment, as he heard Akashi shout his name—strange, he hadn’t thought he’d warranted such panic—and he knelt beside him.

He wasn’t hurt, not really, but he _was_ mortally embarrassed at his childish outburst and clumsiness, so he kept his eyes closed for a moment, until Akashi swore and bent closer for a moment. Kōki cracked an eye open, and as Akashi raised himself again he sat up.

“Daddy!” he heard, just as Akashi started to say something. Kiyoko jumped onto his lap, flinging her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that I had _nothing_ for you. Here!” She sat back and lowered her arms to give him a single red rose.

“Where did you get that?” She pointed at one of the flowerbeds and he sighed. “Thank you, Kiyoko, but you really shouldn’t take them from there.”

“But you’ll still keep it?” She huddled up to his chest as he said he would.

“You’re bleeding,” Akashi said.

Kōki looked at him in confusion before touching his forehead. The tips of his fingers came back red and he pressed Kiyoko’s head marginally closer to his chest so she wouldn’t look. All this day would need was a child who fainted at the sight of blood like Kiyoko did. “Oh,” he said. Lamely. He didn’t know what else to say.

“And you might have a concussion.”

“I really don’t.”

“You were out cold for a minute there.”

“I really wasn’t,” Kōki said nervously.

Akashi dug through his bag and brought out a t-shirt. So he _did_ own such a thing. “It’s clean,” he said, dabbing at the cut gently. Kōki stared wide-eyed at him, cursing Kuroko even more. Nothing like _this_ would have happened if they’d just left everything at Kōki slapping him. “Keep it pressed against the wound. I’ll drive you home and clean it.” He called for Eri, who ran to them.

“Furihata-san?” he asked in shock. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Kōki said automatically, struggling to his feet whilst still holding Kiyoko tightly to his chest. Akashi’s hand was on his back as they walked, and the contact was… pleasant.

Maybe he had hit his head too hard. He kept quiet, mulling over Akashi’s odd changes of mood. After all, he hadn’t seen him so angry since their first meeting, but he had been cold and now he was… compassionate? It made no real sense, and, pondering it so hard that he lost track of time, he almost forgot to tell Akashi to stop at the shop.

“You own a flower shop,” he said. Kōki took away the t-shirt for a moment and pulled a face at the blood. He didn’t quite faint at it like Kiyoko often would, but it definitely made him uncomfortable. He nodded and put the key in the door, letting Kiyoko drop down.

“You and Eri can go upstairs. We’ll just be a moment.” They obeyed, Eri following Kiyoko as Kōki went into the back room to get the first aid kit. “I can do it,” he said when he sensed Akashi approaching.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t clean a cut on your forehead well enough yourself.” He took the kit from Kōki’s hands and ordered him to sit. Kōki followed it without thinking, hopping up onto the bench before frowning when his brain caught up. Akashi approached and Kōki watched him warily as he brushed his hair back and cleaned the wound with a gentleness he didn’t expect someone who was widely regarded as an unforgiving, cutthroat businessman could possess. Maybe there was just a difference in personality in who he was when being challenged and who he was when… living? Being normal? “Does it hurt?” he murmured as he put a plaster on.

Kōki shook his head once, chewed on his bottom lip, and made the mistake of looking him in the eye. Akashi didn’t even seem to be breathing, and he noticed almost giddily that he was still wearing the flower crown, though it was lopsided on his head. “You really scared me, you know,” he said. Kōki didn’t answer, but straightened the flowers. Akashi took the chance to lean closer and kiss him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel right or natural or anything like that. It was supposed to feel _off_ and abnormal in all the wrong ways, but the moment Akashi’s lips were on his he couldn’t stop the small whimper, which was muffled by Akashi. He pressed closer, one hand on Kōki’s neck and the other under his knee. Kōki was focussed entirely where they were touching, and twisted Akashi’s hair through his fingers, avoiding the crown.

He didn’t deepen the kiss any more, but lingered with his forehead against Kōki’s, instead contenting himself with short, sweet pecks before saying, “Same time same place?” Kōki nodded, reaching for one final kiss before he left, calling for Eri up the stairs.

-

He was hungover the week after. Kiyoko had stayed at his parents over the Saturday, and when he’d closed the shop he’d called them to ask if she could stay the night, because he needed some time alone. They had immediately been compassionate and Kōki felt guilty—they probably thought it was something to do with the grief that still lingered from Kiyoko’s mother’s death when in fact it was more the fact that he had to think things over before seeing Akashi the next day. So, to distract himself he had a bottle of wine, and the next day lay in bed with his head pounding and _trying_ to remember what had happened the night before.

He rolled over and saw a glass of water on the bedside table with a note sellotaped to it and his heart was in his throat as he took it off to squint at it. It was… it was from Kuroko. Oh shit. He had seen him drunk? He would never trust him again; only the month before Kuroko had gotten him a pretty nice watch for two years of not having drank any alcohol and made a fool of himself. It wasn’t that he’d ever had a _problem_ , he was just the most unfortunate of lightweights.

Wait… he could smell coffee. Good. Coffee was good. He took the glass of water with him and sipped at it slowly as he staggered to the kitchen.

“How bad are you feeling?” Kuroko said, with a tone to his voice which betrayed that he thought Kōki had gotten his just deserts.

“Uh… pretty dead. A little bit living but I want that to go away.”

Kuroko eyed him. “Drink the water, have a cold shower and then some coffee. You still have a three hours before you have to meet Akashi-kun.”

“The flowers!”

“I watered them; don’t worry.” He continued eyeing him as Kōki drank the water.

“You’re a guardian angel, Kuroko.”

“I want my watch back.”

“Uh… sure.” He placed the cup on the side and started to skitter away.

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

Kōki froze in the doorway. Had he told Kuroko what had happened between him and Akashi? Because _that_ would just be too embarrassing and he would _never_ hear the end of it. “Not really.” He watched as Kuroko nodded, getting some fruit out of the bowl and starting to chop them up. “Did I do anything bad?”

Kuroko just looked at him with an unreadable expression and turned back to the fruit. “Go have a cold shower.”

It did make him feel better, and the coffee after was scalding hot and probably way too strong which was just how he liked it, and the fruit refreshing enough that he felt like a human afterwards. “I love you, Kuroko,” he mumbled, wanting to sleep for the next year. He rested his head on the table.

“I know. You informed me yesterday. In a… ‘non-gay way’.” He made quotation marks in the air. “In all fairness, it was rather amusing. The last time I laughed that hard was when Taiga-kun tried to run away from Nigou and almost got knocked out by a tree branch.”

“How is a fireman scared of a dog?” Kōki muttered into his arms. “Wait, what time do I have to pick up Kiyoko?”

“Just before you go to meet Akashi-kun.”

“Can I hire you to take care of my life?”

Kuroko patted his head, placed another glass of water with some tablets next to him and sighed. “I’ve tried my best.”

 _That_ wasn’t fair. Now Kōki felt guilty.

-

His parents seemed rather alarmed when he picked up Kiyoko probably still looking slightly like a zombie, and his mother put her hand on his arm, her eyes creased in concern. “Maybe you should stay in today.”

Kōki shook his head as he helped Kiyoko with her shoes. “Kuroko will kill me if I don’t keep to my agreement and I’m quite scared of him.” Kiyoko giggled and beamed at her grandmother.

“He prefers me to daddy,” she said proudly.

Maybe she had a photographic memory. Maybe she was a genius and would blow Akashi out of the water when she was older. He could only hope.

“Okay,” she said, patting Kiyoko’s head. Her hair was loose today and probably needed a bit of a cut. Kōki felt in his pocket for a hairband.

“We should be off now,” he said, kissing his mother’s cheek and leaving with his hand on Kiyoko’s shoulder. “Who’s being the princess today, then, Kiyoko?” he asked her. His head was spinning a little. Not good, but he couldn’t cancel now.

“Both of us. And we’re going to be pirates too. Princess pirates.”

He couldn’t say that it made much sense to him, but still nodded. “That sounds good.”

Akashi was on the grass again when they arrived, Kōki breathing a bit harder from the exertion than he really should have been. He wasn’t entirely sure whether the tightness in his chest was due to that or nerves at talking to Akashi the first time since the kiss. Either way, it was an unpleasant feeling.

Still, he politely wished Akashi a good morning and quickly plaited Kiyoko’s hair, fastening it with a hairband which he’d unearthed in his jacket pocket. Akashi said it back and his eyes sparked with amusement.

Not good. He squeezed Kiyoko’s shoulder once he was done and she ran off to the slide.

“I must say I’m rather surprised that you turned up.”

Kōki sat down a good couple of metres from him. “Oh?” he said.

“You look pretty hungover.” He turned back to his phone as Kōki’s mouth dropped open.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed. Akashi smirked. “What did I do? I can’t remember anything.”

“You called me,” he said lightly. “It was a very interesting conversation, though not very coherent from your end.”

Not good. Not good at all. “What did I say?” he whispered.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’ll be keeping that to myself. Ask Kuroko if you want; I think he was there with you.” He frowned. “It seemed like you locked him in a room somewhere for a while.”

He made a mental note to send him some potted flowers along with the watch. “Akashi-san—” His head throbbed and he pressed his palm to it, and half-noticed that Akashi had approached.

“Maybe you should rest for now. I’ll tease you about the call later.”

“Or not at all if you won’t tell me what I said.”

“I will,” he said. He sounded like he was talking through glass, and Kōki was pretty sure that when his eyes slid shut and he let himself fall to the side his head was on Akashi’s lap; it was more comfortable than it would be if he’d fallen onto the grass, but Akashi didn’t push him away. “I’ll tell you at some point,” he said. Kōki felt a hand against his hair and let himself sleep.

-

Akashi woke him up too, shaking his shoulder and calling him by his given name—which was odd, but felt quite nice, too. He jolted up as soon as he realised his head _had_ been on Akashi’s lap, and that was weird because, _really_ , Akashi should have pushed him off; it wasn’t as if they were in a relationship. He stared at Akashi for a moment before looking around and seeing that both Kiyoko and Eri were sitting with them, watching their respective parents with a strange mixture of glee and concern.

“Daddy,” Kiyoko said. She toyed with yet another flower crown—where did she _find_ all those flowers?—and shuffled about before getting to her knees. Kōki looked at her in trepidation. “Is Akashi-san going to be my new mother?”

Akashi muffled a laugh as Kōki loudly denied it. “Don’t be silly,” Eri said. “Furihata-san would be mother.”

They eyed each other, and Kiyoko shrugged. Kōki wondered whether he should be offended that she hadn’t defended his manhood more. “Anyway,” he said, smiling in an attempt to hide how uncomfortable he was. He checked his watch and almost cried with relief. “Time to go, Kiyoko. We have to open up the shop.”

He spent the rest of the day with Kiyoko’s curious and awkward questions, trying to avoid them or at least not give any real answer. Sure, _he_ might have a bit of a crush on Akashi, but he doubted there was much chance of Akashi feeling the same for him.

-

He refused to drink any more, even poured the single bottle of wine he’d had in reserve down the sink. Monday morning he’d gone out to Kuroko’s car with Kiyoko to quietly ask whether he’d heard what he’d said to Akashi on the phone. His eyes had glinted even as he said he hadn’t heard a thing, and Kōki knew he was lying though he had to let him leave. At least the shop was busy over the week and he had quite a few orders come in, though he did lament over how difficult it was to manage and work the shop alone.

On the Friday he was exhausted, working through the numbers in his head and wondering whether he might just be able to squeeze enough out of his profits to hire a part-time helper and whether he and Kiyoko would have to give up meat or maybe food altogether.

He was thinking they might just be able to manage it if they only worked three days a week and chewing on the end of his pen when Akashi walked in.

He hadn’t expected it. That was the real issue; he hadn’t realised just how much he had to build himself up before he saw Akashi, especially when he was dressed so well and the difference in their social spheres was so obvious. He’d _seen_ some of the buildings—yes, building _s_ —that Teikō used, and it couldn’t be more different to his slightly shabby, run down shop with its rough wooden shelves and plastic pots or 250¥ vases.

And he _definitely_ didn’t expect it when Akashi, after a confident smile which _still_ irritated Kōki, he asked him out.

Like _out_. On a date. Well, he’d said ‘dinner’ but ‘date’ was very much implied by that.

Never mind that he hadn’t gone out with anyone since Kiyoko’s mother had died. Never mind that the first date you had with someone after being widowed should be with someone that you didn’t _really_ care for, just enough to get out of the house on an evening and spend some time _trying_ to learn how to flirt again. Not that Kōki was sure he’d _ever_ managed to flirt successfully, but it was the attempt that mattered.

“What?” he asked weakly. There was one other customer in the shop, who looked at them both in alarm before leaving. Kōki couldn’t even bring himself to mourn the loss of business when Akashi was looking at him in that way; his eyes much too gentle in comparison to the sharp lines of his suit. He wondered how he could ever have thought that Akashi was cold.

“Dinner. As in what would usually constitute a date if two people were romantically interested in each other.” Kōki wondered how he knew and kept on looking at him blankly. For some reason, it amused Akashi. “I’m asking if you want to go out with me, Kōki.”

“Go out?”

“Like a date.”

“ _Oh_.”

“It’s nothing too alarming. Dinner with the kids at either of our houses.”

Kōki looked away. Okay, maybe he _didn’t_ know what a date was. Because that definitely did not sound like one. “So… dinner.”

He was startled when he made himself look at Akashi again, because this time he was the one averting his eyes, his cheeks slightly pink. He didn’t know if it was sexual frustration or just _Akashi_ but even _that_ was painfully appealing. “And then we can put the kids to bed and… see what happens.” He actually blushed slightly deeper and Kōki almost gave in and dragged him forcefully into the back room. There was a lock on the door, after all. “Am I being too forward?” he asked when Kōki didn’t answer.

“N-no,” Kōki said. Not forward _enough_ if he was to be honest. How quickly could this relationship go if they were _both_ nervous? “That’s fine. Good, actually. And easier here; I have to be in the shop at six for the flowers anyway.” Akashi approached and Kōki hurriedly stacked some papers which didn’t really need stacking up, but he had to distract himself with _something_ , because Akashi was positively _sauntering_ and none of this was good for his mental health. “How about tomorrow evening at seven?”

Akashi nodded and leant over the counter, cupping the back of Kōki’s neck to bring him closer and kissed him. And everything ached to the tips of his fingers because it was all too sweet, the scent of flowers and the warmth of the sun through the window coupled with the soft breeze through the open door, how he kissed, so languid as if time would never catch up to them. A small sigh escaped him as Akashi pulled back and he kept his eyes closed to bask in the feelings that had been vacant for much too long, only opening them once he heard the door.

He really hoped Akashi had meant sex by that ‘ _see what happens_ ’.

-

He called Kuroko later that evening, finally admitted what had happened between them (to which Kuroko replied that he knew all along though Kōki had _no_ idea how) and after mentally cheering himself on—he could do this, he could ask—said; “Has sex changed at all since… uh… you know?”

He could hear Kuroko sigh. “ _No. Except that it’s all done upside-down now_.” There was no reason to not trust him; _he_ hadn’t stopped having sex.

“Really? That doesn’t sound… oh. You’re kidding.”

“ _Yes, I am, Furihata-kun. It’s still the same old thing_.”

Kōki whined and almost smacked his head against the table. “I really shouldn’t be this scared. It’s not like I’m a virgin.”

“ _You’re not drinking, are you?_ ”

“No. I only ever had one bottle anyway. I never had a _problem_ , Kuroko.”

“ _But when one bottle got you to say…_ ” He paused and coughed. “ _Never mind_.”

Kōki’s stomach dropped several kilometres below ground. It _had_ to be bad, what with Akashi’s reaction and Kuroko’s avoidance. “Can you please just tell me what happened when I was drunk?”

“ _No. Need anything else?_ ”

Kōki growled under his breath. “No. Thank you.”

“ _It’ll all go fine, Furihata-kun. I haven’t seen Akashi-kun this smitten for a while._ ”

Kōki wondered how long it should take to go from blindly hating someone to being so close to falling for them. “Oh,” he said. It was all he _could_ say, really. His emotions were a turmoil in his body. Kuroko chuckled and hung up.

-

Akashi, to add to all his other near-perfections, was exactly on time, almost to the second. Kiyoko solemnly announced that she would get the door (Kōki wasn’t entirely sure what was up but she had been quiet all day) and Kōki, screaming inside his head, asked Akashi how the road was out of politeness and delaying any real conversation. He answered with… something… but Kōki couldn’t entirely understand because he’d just bent down to help Eri with his shoes and it was all just too distracting and _complicated_ and he didn’t even know what they were going to be doing, whether by that pause and ‘ _see what happens_ ’ he’d meant just talking or sex. He noted with slight despair that Akashi didn’t have a bag or anything which could be big enough to have his and Eri’s things in.

“I’m just going to quickly finish off in the kitchen,” he said. He heard Kiyoko say that it would be just a little while and invite Eri into her room. Sure, it meant something completely different, but it sounded so easy to say. He tried saying it under his breath as he stirred the sauce.

“‘Why don’t you come into _my_ room, Akashi-san?’ ‘Yeah sure I’d love to ram my cock—’”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Kōki jumped and almost splashed sauce over himself and the counter. He was in the doorway. He can’t have heard what Kōki had said above the over-head fan. And when his smile was just pleasantly confused he breathed a sigh of relief. “No,” he answered meekly. There had to be something wrong with him; why else would _he_ , the father of a five-year-old, be saying such things? And out _loud_ too? He turned back to the sauce and added a bit of pepper, hands shaking. Arms suddenly encircled around his waist and his breathing stopped when Akashi kissed his neck.

Maybe it would just _happen_. Naturally and ceaselessly; Akashi would kiss him and he would kiss back before they fell. It wouldn’t be any different to this, minus a few layers of fabric. It _would_ be intense, but he trusted Akashi.

“I never apologised for…” Kōki trailed off, distracted by what Akashi was doing to his neck. Akashi hummed against his skin, and Kōki shook his head to clear it. “For how I treated you to begin with.”

“No need,” Akashi said. His voice was muffled. “You standing up to me, especially when I was like _that_ , was what made me interested in you once I was thinking clearly.”

“But I slapped you.”

Kōki felt his lips tilt up into a smile even though _he_ was still feeling quite miserable and guilty about their entire first meeting. “That was quite hot, actually.”

Kōki’s blood chilled when Akashi played with the button of his jeans. Dangerous territory. Much too dangerous when the kids were only a few metres away and still awake. “You stir the sauce; I’ll lay the table,” he said too loudly, trying to slip out of his arms. He almost made it—the cabinet with the plates was within arms’ reach—but Akashi spun him round, kissing him breathless in only seconds before letting him go and obeying.

Kōki remained carefully blank and expressionless.

-

Akashi helped him clear up afterwards entirely unprompted, and it surprised Kōki. He supposed he should give up with any preconceptions he’d had of the man, but he’d thought that someone who probably had servants to do anything wouldn’t even _know_ what a kitchen sponge was used for. Even when Kōki surreptitiously checked the washing once he’d put it to drain, he saw that it was done well. He wondered in slight agitation whether there was anything he _couldn’t_ do.

Because he was also very adept at stealing kisses whilst making sure they were hidden from view against the wall. When he was braver, as Akashi tugged at his hair, he told him to stay for the night. Told; there was no question. He wanted and needed Akashi as soon as humanly possible.

Akashi gave him the same smirk that he would have wanted to punch off his face just a few weeks ago, which now sent his mind and body to nervous flutterings. “Mine and Eri’s things are still in the car,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Kōki almost slid down the wall and wondered why they were acting like such teenagers. Once he’d composed himself, he emerged, flattening his hair where Akashi had grasped at it.

“Where did daddy go?” Eri asked.

“To get your things from the car,” Kōki answered, kneeling beside him and Kiyoko at the table. They appeared to be playing a convoluted, complicated card game with several piles. Kiyoko picked one card from the left-most pile and four from the middle and lay them face-down, observing them silently before sighing.

“You win,” she said. Eri picked them up with a wide smile.

He was a surprisingly expressive child, and the set of his eyebrows made him seem as if he was perpetually worried. Kōki could see a lot of his father in his looks, except for his eyes which were a dark brown almost indecipherable from the pupil.

He picked one card from his own pile and another from Kiyoko’s hand (she didn’t protest, so he assumed it was part of the game) and wordlessly put them into Kōki’s hand. “Am I playing?” he asked.

Kiyoko shook her head. “It’s too hard to explain.”

Kōki was pretty sure they were just moving cards from one pile to another, and after a few seconds, just before Akashi came in again, Kiyoko dropped her cards and eyed Eri. “Fine.” Eri smiled pleasantly—exactly the same smile as his father to the point that it made Kōki’s breath catch in his throat—and gathered all the cards to himself. “Play again?” Kiyoko continued.

Eri nodded and started laying out the cards in a complicated pattern as Akashi sat beside him. Letting his head fall onto his arms, Kōki let out a sigh. After the heat in the kitchen and the only barely restrained passion, this was calm and gentle. How he’d thought it could have been had Kiyoko’s mother not died, what he’d yearned for in the weeks and months and years afterwards, every time they’d been at the table and there was an empty side to the table, which now Eri and Akashi were sitting at.

He lifted his head again just as Eri yawned and Akashi quietly asked him if he was tired. Kōki pointed out the bathroom to him and he disappeared into it with Eri clinging around his neck.

“Daddy,” Kiyoko started. She put the cards into a neat pile and fitted them into their box. “You would tell me if Eri was going to be my new little brother, right?”

“Walk and talk,” he said. “Help me set up the futon for Eri-kun.”

“Would you?” she asked, running ahead of him into her room to pull extra blankets from her cupboard.

“Of course.”

“Well, is he?”

He looked down at her and rubbed his forehead. “It’s too early to be able to tell anything like that. If you remember, I despised Akashi-san a couple of weeks ago.”

“It’s moving quickly.” She threw the blankets onto the futon and Kōki pulled them off again to put some sheets over the mattress.

“I know. Does it bother you?”

He let out a sigh of relief when she shook her head. “If you’re happy and Akashi-san’s happy and Eri’s happy then I’m happy.”

It made his heart melt, really. It was a pool at the bottom of his feet and he hugged her to his chest. “It’s difficult to know at such an early stage. And with what happened to your mother it doesn’t put me in the best state to judge what’s going to happen. So, for now, we’ll leave it at this. And I’ll talk to you when it gets more serious, okay?” He pulled back and waited until she nodded.

“Eri told me that Akashi-san hasn’t seemed so happy as long as he can remember.”

Kōki didn’t say anything to that, though Kiyoko looked at him expectantly. It was a few minutes later, as Kōki chewed on his bottom lip and tried to work it all out and come to a conclusion he knew instinctively was right, that Akashi walked out of the bathroom. After all, it wasn’t as if they were young and carefree and had only themselves to think of. Kōki pointed to the futon and tried not to helplessly watch as Eri was cuddled up to him when the similarities between them were so strong. Kiyoko pranced to the bathroom with her pyjamas in her arms and he followed. Once they had finished and he was tucking her in Eri was already asleep.

He sincerely tried not to be nervous when he closed the bedroom door behind him and joined Akashi in the living room. Trying to capture Kōki in a kiss, Akashi sighed when he turned his head. “Wait a bit,” he said. Akashi played with his hair, his forehead resting on the side of Kōki’s head as Kōki gathered his thoughts and composure and anything else that he possibly thought he could need for what was about to happen. “It’s just… been a while. I never thought I would want to be with anyone after Hina.” The name didn’t catch somewhere inside his chest as it usually did. “Kiyoko’s mother, I mean.”

“We don’t have to rush anything.”

It would have to happen, though, and he _wanted_ it to. He felt like he was ready to let Hina go, keep what he had of her in Kiyoko but free himself of the rest. “She died during labour,” he said. He looked straight ahead as Akashi pulled back. “Didn’t get to see Kiyoko. And we knew it would happen. The doctors wanted her to abort because they knew her body wouldn’t be able to handle it, but as soon as she found out the child would most likely survive she refused. She was too compassionate and brave for her own good, and I _hated_ that about her. I thought I would hate Kiyoko too, though I never let it show to Hina. I underestimated just how powerful it was when I could hold her, and it was only then that I didn’t regret managing to change Hina’s mind and that I finally understood what was the reasoning was behind that decision.” He didn’t know if Akashi was speechless or just instinctively knew that he had to get it out. This was more cathartic than the broken explanations he’d given his parents and Kuroko the few days after it had happened, though he didn’t know if it was a good idea it was to _Akashi_ he was directing it. “She was two months premature and had to stay at the hospital for a while and every night I had to come back to an empty apartment and… I think it broke something inside me. To me, there was no reason to even think about being in a relationship and it was all I thought until…” He gave Akashi a sideways look, and was surprised by just how solemnly he was regarding Kōki. Shaking his head, Kōki smiled. “Are you going to tell me off for sharing my life story so easily?”

“No. I’m honoured that you would share it with me.” He paused.

Maybe he would decide that such a wreck of a person was hardly worth the time. They weren’t even really dating, and yet he’d spilled something that should be private “I should take a leaf from your book.”

“Don’t change, Kōki.” He paused again and furrowed his brow when Kōki looked at him. “I’m sorry. I have nothing I can say that could even make you feel marginally better.”

He had an opening. His pulse was coursing through his veins, but it was excitement, not fear. Such a small difference between the two and yet it could have the most profound effect. “Then don’t talk. Act.”

He bit his lower lip and Akashi’s gaze focused on it for a moment before he said his name softly. It broke the spell of silence and inaction between them, and Kōki didn’t know who moved first, he just knew that Akashi’s arms were tight around him and fisted in his hair and he was kissing him as if there was nothing at all left to say that couldn’t be communicated like this. Kōki was pressed to the cushions as Akashi hovered over him, latching onto his neck again. He had forgotten just how sensitive he was on his neck, but it all came to the forefront of his mind as Akashi skilfully tore gasps from his lips. The floor was hard against his back when a certain movement of Akashi’s hips pressed him against it, and as Akashi took his mouth again he mumbled, “Bedroom.” It backfired to begin with; Akashi roughly pressed into him again whilst pushing his tongue into Kōki’s mouth and Kōki almost cried out at the sparks he felt throughout his entire body. He whimpered instead, and it was muffled before Kōki pushed against his chest. “ _Bedroom_ ,” he said, more firmly, and Akashi made a small sound of disapproval, paired with a look that made Kōki’s blood heat up and probably swiftly depart from his head. He felt woozy and drunk on the heady atmosphere already, and when Akashi pulled him to his feet he almost staggered his way to the bedroom.

Akashi seemed predatory once he’d closed the door and trapped Kōki against it, his eyes dark. It definitely felt good, with Akashi pressing into him and Kōki having nowhere to go, but he turned his face away. “ _Kōki_ ,” he said in reprimand, and Kōki held back a smile as he pushed him back.

“When I said ‘ _bedroom_ ’ I meant ‘ _bed_ ’.” Akashi caught hold of his hands and pulled him back, holding him in place by his hips when he’d sat on the bed.

“Fine,” he said. He cocked an eyebrow and Kōki was beginning to see that expression as very compromising to his health. “Strip off.” His voice was a low command, and he undid his tie, throwing it behind him as he settled back on his elbows.

“ _What_?”

It wouldn’t surprise Kōki if he had x-ray vision anyway, with how intensely he was gazing at his body. It wasn’t _that_ special, Kōki wanted to say, but he was too nervous. He’d hoped for darkness and touches, not the ceiling light on full and Akashi’s eyes on every part of his body.

The side of his mouth quirked up. “Be quiet, Kōki. There are children sleeping. And you were going to strip off anyway, right?”

“Not as a _show_.”

His smile widened, and… oh shit, how could he have _dimples_ at a time like this? “Can you really defy me?” He already seemed in raptures, and Kōki crossed his arms. _Really_ , he was the oldest, _he_ should be in charge. And Akashi was petulant. That was his main fault, and even if it was an endearing fault if it meant Kōki had to force him out of it he would.

Well, it wasn’t like Kōki was more attractive, more powerful, richer… the only way he had him beaten was his age. And naturally, that would mean sexual experience, right? “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

It shouldn’t have worked on him, but Akashi looked strangely cute when he pouted. “If you take your clothes off.”

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

Akashi raised his eyebrows and straightened up with a sheepish look. “Fourteen. You?”

“Aha!” Kōki exclaimed. Akashi pointed to the wall which separated his and Kiyoko’s room and he smacked his hands to his mouth. “Sorry,” he mouthed. “Eighteen. I have one year of experience more than you do and…” He frowned as it caught up to him. “Fourteen? Seriously?”

He shifted and pulled a face. “I’m not _proud_ of it. I mean… I was at the time. But not anymore.”

Kōki scratched the back of his head. “That’s really young. Are you sure it didn’t cause some sort of trauma?”

Akashi rolled his eyes. “I answered your question and I still see clothes on you.” Kōki huffed and took off his shirt by pulling it over his head, throwing it to Akashi’s face (it didn’t work; he caught it, gave Kōki a smile that showed that he knew he was in control and threw it where he’d thrown his tie).

“Are you sure it didn’t cause some sort of trauma?” he repeated, ignoring Akashi when he eyed his trousers. “Do you use sex as some sort of defence mechanism or something?”

“What are you talking about?” He was muffling a laugh and started to reach for Kōki, settling back again when Kōki slapped his hands away.

“Are you a sex addict?”

“I’ve had sex with two people, Kōki, and only once since Eri was born. So, no.”

Kōki smirked. “Three.”

“What now?”

“I’ve had sex with three people. It’s confirmed. I’m more experienced.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” He was still muffling a laugh, and his eyes were bright and relaxed.

“I’m in charge,” he said. He paired it with a wink and Akashi’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t have a come-back and Kōki didn’t let him think of one as he pushed him against the bed and straddled his hips to kiss him and not allow any space between them.

-

He was slow to wake up the next morning, with Akashi holding him tightly in his sleep. Halting his breath, he turned to look at him. It was his turn to be in raptures at the pure simplicity of this moment. Beams of sunlight were falling against the bed, highlighting dust swirling above them in a way that seemed celestial. With Akashi like this, he wasn’t predatory or confident but had a sort of timeless beauty in his serenity.

He pressed his face against the crook of Akashi’s neck and felt lips against his ear and hands against the small of his back.

 _Dominating_ Akashi hadn’t really worked, in the end. After a small battle, which was comprised more of muffled laughs and wrestling than anything inherently sexual they’d decided on a truce. Being equal partners was better than anything else, after all.

“We’re going to have to do that again,” Akashi said.

Kōki checked the time and shook his head. “I have to be up to do the flowers in five minutes.” Sitting up, he tried to ignore Akashi kissing his shoulder.

“Lucky flowers,” he said, smirking when Kōki shrugged him off and scrambled around for something he could put on. Feeling Akashi’s eyes on him so unwaveringly made him fumble more than he would usually, not to mention the sheets were low around his hips and his body left absolutely _nothing_ to be desired.

When he found something (he was pretty sure the shirt was Akashi’s but it didn’t matter when all he needed to do was water the plants) he turned back to Akashi and tried to compose himself and ignore how Akashi’s attention on him was not wavering in the slightest. “So are you going to tell me what I said when I called you now?”

His smile was positively delighted and he shook his head.

“ _Akashi-san_.”

“First, don’t call me that after what you did to me last night—” Kōki blushed and coughed to try to hide his embarrassment, “—and second, I’m withholding that information for your own good. You would be mortally embarrassed if you knew what you’d said to me.”

The small whimper that came from Kōki only made him smile wider, but Kōki shook his head. “I can handle it. Tell me.”

He eyed Kōki before shrugging. “If you think so…” He smirked and Kōki almost changed his mind, when he looked so devilishly pleased with himself. “You told me that if I asked you would have no qualms about fucking me in the middle of the park behind some bushes.”

It was worse than he’d thought. Much worse. Kōki whined and covered his face with his hands. He was close to telling Akashi to leave. “That’s not good.”

“And that—” Crap, there was _more_? “—you thought I was too pretty to really be human and that you especially liked me bent over. Then you argued with Kuroko a bit, you either locked him or yourself in a room and—”

“Okay that’s enough.”

“—and then there was a lot of dirty talk.” He let out a sigh, actually looking as if he was _longing_ for something, and Kōki didn’t even want to think about what that was after all he’d managed to convince him to do the night before. Glaring as Akashi gazed at him, he put his hands over his ears and shook his head. “I’ve thought about it a lot since then,” Akashi admitted. “Did you know that you’re very good at dirty talk?”

“I said that’s _enough_.” He let Akashi pull him closer, but kept his face covered as he nuzzled his hip and abdomen. He let it go on for a few seconds, before gently tugging his hair. “I have to…”

“Flowers,” Akashi said. “Go ahead.” He let go so reluctantly that Kōki almost stayed. Almost. He roused himself, shook his head to rid his thoughts of the temptation to ask for more of what he’d said and maybe try a bit of it out… but no. His livelihood depended on keeping the flowers as fresh as possible for as long as possible.

It didn’t stop him from rushing through it as quickly as he could, and it wasn’t as if he opened the shop any earlier than midday on a Sunday, so after checking that the children were still asleep he beckoned to Akashi and led him to the bathroom.

Economically and environmentally, sharing a shower just made sense.

-

He was rather nervous when Kuroko dropped by unannounced and, remembering that he hadn’t actually told him that he’d ended up having sex with Akashi, ended up blurting it all out and wanting to hide behind the counter when Kuroko watched him expressionlessly.

“I came in to buy some flowers, Furihata-kun.”

Kōki froze as he looked at some lilies. “You… you did? So you weren’t coming to shout at me?”

“Why would I shout? As long as you don’t give me too many details I approve.” He chose some and brought them to Kōki. “And I knew already. Kiyoko-chan and Eri-kun informed me that their parents had a sleepover. I was able to fill in the gaps.”

Kōki automatically took the money.

“And please, not too many details. I don’t want to hear about my cousin in that way.”

“C-cousin?”

Kuroko nodded. “Akashi-kun is my cousin. Our mothers were sisters.”

“B-but he refers to you as a friend.”

He held the lilies to his chest and his eyebrows lowered minutely. “There were some… issues when he was a child regarding him and his father after his mother passed away. He often regards ‘family’ as something negative because of that, but we always got on.”

He left, leaving Kōki to confused thoughts and wondering if he should be worried that Akashi had never mentioned it himself.

-

Kōki felt underdressed when he entered through the gates.

It wasn’t a bad ensemble he had on, and was even free of soil which was rare enough in itself, but the Akashi estate was, quite frankly, beautiful and elegant in ways he didn’t know a building could be. Kiyoko pressed her cheek against his hand (she, wearing a dress and her hair up at least looked fit to be here) and said something about it being a pretty house as the driver lead the way down the path. After a bit of coaxing from Akashi—entirely unfair as he had been in a compromising position and couldn’t think straight—he’d agreed to have what had become their weekly dinners and ‘sleepovers’ at his place, and Kōki’s lack of a car meant that he had to agree to use Akashi’s personal driver. And seeing where he lived was… a pain. These kinds of houses were only reserved for the most elite, which Kōki was not even close to being.

Akashi opened the door and let them in. After a moment of staring in awe—there was even a stained glass window throwing kaleidoscopic colours over the floor and pale walls—and starting when Akashi kissed his cheek, he did what he could to compliment the place by saying it was _nice_. Which wasn’t enough; it was beautiful, and Kōki had fallen in love instantly.

Akashi looked at it for a second and furrowed his brow, his lips pressed tightly together. “It’s a prison,” he said. Kōki couldn’t think how to respond, and Kiyoko beat him in taking his hand.

“Seijūrō-san?” she asked. Akashi seemed startled by how she called him but smiled at her. “Can you play the piano?” She gestured to a grand piano which was situated in a room before them. When Akashi nodded she tugged him towards it. “Can I hear?”

Eri had taken his attention by tapping his hand and asked him whether he wanted to see the library, leading him down a corridor and into a large room filled with bookcases. Kōki walked through it slowly as Eri pulled a small step ladder to one of the shelves, climbing it and retrieving an old tome. “ _Wagahai wa neko de aru_ ,” he said. “First edition. It’s one of daddy’s favourites.”

Kōki opened it carefully before closing it again when he saw an inscription to Akashi from his mother. There was something about looking through it, even if he’d read the book several times before, that felt intrusive.

He heard the piano and an intricate piece started. “That’s your father playing?” he asked.

Eri nodded. “Daddy had to have knowledge of everything when he was younger because grandfather used to say that an Akashi had to be excellent in all areas.” He listened with his eyes closed, his head cocked to one side. “That’s Chopin. Listen how even though it’s a waltz the timing isn’t constant and the repeated runs? He was from the romantic era but had a lot of influence on the modern classical period in European music.”

Kōki smiled at him. Learning something new from a five-year-old should have been something alarming, but he only felt pride that Akashi’s child was so intelligent. “You’re quite clever yourself, aren’t you, Eri-kun?”

“Daddy expects me to do the best I can in what I love.”

“And you love music?”

Eri nodded, took the book back from Kōki’s hands and slotted it back in place before hopping off the ladder, skipping ahead as Kōki followed.

He had one last glance into the library before he closed the door, and could almost feel the coldness of the generations that had lived here before Akashi. He shivered. Maybe Akashi had a point about this place being a prison.

-

He was as nervous as he had been the first time once they’d put the children to bed in Eri’s room, and when Akashi kissed him he ran through what he knew in his mind. Akashi’s changes in personality in different situations, Kuroko’s words about the difficulties within his family and Eri’s about the expectations that were placed on him from such a young age. When Akashi pulled back to look at him as if he was the entire world he pushed back on his chest. “Wait,” he said.

He did, though his softened expression turned into one of irritation and for a moment he had a crushing hold on Kōki’s wrist that almost hurt. Kōki said nothing, and instead watched as the piercing focus of his eyes relaxed to something more natural. “Can I ask you something?”

Akashi brushed his thumb over Kōki’s wrist, breathing harder than usual. “Did I hurt you?”

Confusion as well. Kōki added it to the list. “No. It’s fine,” he reassured.

“Go ahead, then.”

“Were you happy when you were younger?”

Akashi looked down the hall in silence as Kōki kept his hands on his chest to keep him away. “What does that have to do with anything?” he finally asked.

“A lot. Especially if you’re still living in your childhood home and refer to it as a ‘ _prison_ ’.”

It was almost as if he flickered for a moment. What had been an unassuming expression was abruptly uncaring. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes were hard rubies as he roughly pulled Kōki towards him. “My childhood has nothing to do with this. Drop it, Kōki.”

Kōki shook his head, but allowed Akashi to lead him into a room a few doors down from Eri’s. He was almost tempted to obey Akashi and drop it when he saw the room—a four-poster bed and silk sheets could have that effect on anyone—but when Akashi tried to push him against the wall he stood on his foot instead of accepting his advances. Stepping back abruptly, he ignored Akashi’s perplexed expression.

He wasn’t scared, even when Akashi watched him so narrowly he felt exposed. “It does. Just answer my question.”

“ _Why_?”

Kōki watched him as he became more agitated.

“No. And so what? In your mind, does everyone have to have a blindingly happy childhood?”

“Of course not. But if it was something _deeper_ than that—”

“Deeper how?”

Kōki raked his hands through his hair, anger filling him from Akashi’s stubbornness. “If you were being abused in some way—”

“ _Abused_?”

“ _Seijūrō_.” Akashi froze. “It doesn’t have to be physical. Emotional abuse and manipulation can have a bad effect too.”

He was still frozen, avoiding Kōki’s eyes, and Kōki remained silent though he wanted to talk or approach him. He wondered if this would be the end for them.

“I wasn’t happy.” Kōki breathed a sigh of relief when he spoke though he still ached. That anyone had to go through enough for it to shatter their mind was bad enough, but when it was to someone he loved it was unthinkable. “I dreaded everything about my life because there was nothing _I_ could control. It was all laid out for me, and that was the only reason I was even born.” He looked up at Kōki. “Does that satisfy you?”

Kōki shook his head.

“Then what do you _want_?”

“I want the truth. I’m involved now, and more than that, my _daughter_ is involved. You can’t brush over something like that.”

Kōki held back a shudder when Akashi looked at him with all the turmoil and tumult of a tsunami. Everything _about_ him was so powerful. His emotions made time cease. “I despise this house,” he whispered, his gaze blank. “It’s not really mine. My father handed it to me and retired in Kyoto, but everything is still in his name. I have to keep it all as it has been since I was a child and I can’t move on. There’s always _this_ as a reminder of everything I lost and everything I never had.”

He sat on the bed and Kōki hesitated—but he wasn’t aching for conflict or blindly angry, his shoulders were tense from fear. He was on a knife edge and Kōki didn’t know which side he’d fall down.

He approached slowly and sat beside him on the bed, holding onto his arm and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “What else?”

“The company,” he said, his voice wavering. “It’s because of the company and my own weakness. I put everything I have into it because I know it means Eri will never be wanting for anything, but at some point he’s going to wake up and hate me for everything I missed out on. These past few weeks have been the most time I’ve spent with him his entire life.”

“That won’t happen. Eri adores you and it’s never too late.” It wasn’t everything he had to say, but Kōki kissed his neck and let Akashi pull him onto his lap. The silk was cool against the palm of his hand as he braced himself and Akashi fell back. When Kōki undid the buttons of his shirt, kissing his chest as he did so, he took it all in; Akashi pliant beneath him, the familiar grip in his hair and the murmured confession that had Kōki fumble and struggle to undo the last of them.

“Fine,” he said, breathless. Kōki sat up and let Akashi get out from underneath him. “My coping mechanism when I was younger was… to retreat inside my mind. As my father continued to give me more responsibilities and commands it happened more and more often until who I was when I was with my father was someone completely separate. It was subtle enough that most people didn’t notice, but I wasn’t alone in my mind anymore. I wasn’t in _control_ anymore. To begin with it was a relief; I could hide myself when my mother couldn’t protect me anymore. But the longer I let the _other_ one take over, the more exhausting it was to piece my mind back together every time. I completely lost control for a while when I was a teenager, but when I awoke again we were much more a part of each other than I had ever wanted.” He stared ahead and Kōki felt cold. “I think the only way to get rid of him is if I kill myself.” Kōki’s breath caught in his throat at the despair in his voice and he pressed Akashi to himself, the same way he would to Kiyoko if she was scared. _You’re not alone. Ground yourself on me._

Akashi was frozen, but he slowly loosened and curled around Kōki, letting him manoeuvre them so that they were under the silken covers and Kōki was holding him tightly together. “He’s who I am when I’m working with the company, whenever someone defies me or belittles me. Before you the only people I could be like _this_ with were Eri and Kuroko.” He pulled back to kiss the corner of Kōki’s mouth and linger along his jaw.

“I suppose we’re both a bit broken.” As Kōki spoke Akashi’s hand travelled down his body, resting at his waist. “Fixing,” he corrected himself when Akashi looked at him wordlessly.

“Fixing,” Akashi vowed.

 

 


End file.
